"Why, through the neighboring departments, or through yours. They tell me she was seen at Toulouse in an open carriage while changing horses." "Good heavens!" cried the prefect; "that would be a little too bold." "So bold that Monsieur le préfet doesn't believe it?" "Not one word of it," said the official emphasizing each monosyllable as he uttered it. At that moment the door opened, and one of the count's footmen announced that a clerk from the prefecture asked permission to deliver a telegraphic despatch just received from Paris for the prefect. "Will you permit him to enter?" said the prefect to the count. "Why, of course," said the latter. The clerk entered and gave a sealed package to the prefect, who bowed his excuses to the company for opening it. Absolute silence reigned. All eyes were fixed on the despatch. Madame exchanged signs with M. de Vouillé, who laughed under his breath, with M. de Lussac, who laughed aloud, and with her so-called husband who maintained his imperturbably grave manner. "Whew!" cried the public functionary suddenly, while his features were indiscreet enough to betray the utmost surprise. "What is the news?" asked M. de Vouillé. "The news is," exclaimed the prefect, "that Madame de la Myre was right in what she said about her Royal Highness. Her Royal Highness has not left France; her Royal Highness is on her way to La Vendée, through Toulouse, Libourne, and Poitiers." So saying, the prefect rose. "Where are you going, Monsieur le préfet?" asked the duchess. "To do my duty, madame, painful as it is, and give orders that her Royal Highness be arrested if, as this despatch warns me, she is imprudent enough to pass through my department." "Do so, Monsieur le préfet; do so," said the duchess. "I can only applaud your zeal and assure you that I shall remember it when occasion offers." She held out her hand to the prefect, who kissed it gallantly, after having, with a look, asked Monsieur de la Myre's permission to do so. XIV. PETIT-PIERRE. Let us now return to the cottage of the goodman Tinguy, which we left for a time to make that excursion to the château de Vouillé. Forty-eight hours have gone by. Bertha and Michel are again at the sick man's bedside. Though the regular visits which Doctor Roger now paid rendered the young girl's presence in that fever-stricken place unnecessary, Bertha, in spite of Mary's remonstrances, persisted in her care of the Vendéan peasant. Nevertheless, it is probable that Christian charity was not the only motive which drew her to his cottage.